


The Horror of Our Love

by Selene_the_Moon_Goddess



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Insanity, Kind of non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selene_the_Moon_Goddess/pseuds/Selene_the_Moon_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love your angles, your shapes. They spell out destruction, ruin. You’re like the most beautifully put together bomb, and I’m eagerly awaiting zero."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wade

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Ludo song by the same title.

Your skull is the perfect size for my hands. I can cup the back of your head so easily, tilt it so I can bite the smooth skin of your neck. 

Your hair is just long enough that I can thread my fingers through it. Hold on and slam your mouth to mine. You weigh just enough so that throwing you across the room doesn’t take too much effort, but I can still feel the burn of the force rip through me. 

Your eyes are just large enough that I can plainly see the shock and fear when they widen. The blood from your arm is red enough that the sight of it quenches my thirst for violence, soothes my anger.

I love your angles, your shapes. They spell out destruction, ruin. You’re like the most beautifully put together bomb, and I’m eagerly awaiting zero.

 

We play this game over and over again. And each time we stop, and the look on your face when we do, it gets better. 

The fake pleas of "Wade you promised. You promised you'd stop." oh they sound so delicious. They send tingles down my spine. 

The sounds you make when you're under me, the moans mixed with sobs. It's music, poetry, everything I could ever want and more. 

 

Even the time when we play that game, fill the roles of a "normal couple." When we walk down bright streets hand in hand pretending to be average. When your smile is bright and large, your laughter clear. It makes all this pretending, holding back just so the look on your face when we stop that much more beautiful, so very worth it. 

 

You're gorgeous, babe. The cuts and bruises add color to the canvas of your skin. The others, they don't realize that you're my masterpiece. You're my creation, I took you broken and ordinary and remade you whole and beautiful. 

I fixed you. Why don't they understand. You're better. I make you better, beautiful. I paint you red and blue, leave you panting like an overworked heart. With me you're alive. No one can do that to you. No one can ever try. You are mine, wholly. 

 

That was a clever move you did today calling them, pleading for them to take you. It was exciting, new. Something I didn't think about before. 

It was thrilling to rip the phone from your hand, to feel the sting when the back of my hand met your cheek. You looked amazing spitting blood, gorgeous trying to fight me back. 

I enjoyed creating bruises into your ribs when I grabbed you from the window. The fear in your eyes shone bright in the light from the moon. 

 

You're such a romantic. You spoil me, letting me have this violence. For enjoying it along with me. Your sobs of apologies filled me up while I fucked you into our mattress. When I erased all doubt in your mind about who you belonged to, I knew more fun games like this were coming. 

I knew they'd come and try to take you from me. I knew you'd tell them no, you were fine, and I knew they wouldn't give up. I know you'd never leave me, you enjoy the game just as much as I do. 

Even if the rules have changed a little.


	2. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

“What happens when you fall in love with a sadist?” Your voice is even and teasing, but it feels small and scared in your throat. 

She laughs and says, “I guess you learn to be a masochist.” 

You laugh with her and she gives you that small smile that use to make you weak at the knees. But now, all you can think of is devil smiles and scarred skin and how you only really feel alive when he presses bruises into your ribs.

You think of this and realize that that is probably the best advice you’ve ever heard.

 

The first time you feel like you’re losing your mind.

Everything is red and flesh colored and the ugly blue purple of a bruise. Sounds don’t seem real and you feel so odd completely naked staring at your marked skin.

Not exposed or violated or embarrassed, no nothing normal. You feel somehow whole, like you came of the womb like thing and finally, blessedly finally, you’ve return to your natural state.

Your brain knows that can’t be true. It knows you shouldn’t feel relief at the sight of the blue fingertip bruises on your ribs. It knows that it shouldn’t feel like a homecoming at the sight of these and others, but the body is a bitch and never listens to your brain.

So you stand there, and try to make some sense of it. You can hear him in the kitchen. He’s muttering to himself again. His mind working a mile a minute. It’s going fast, too fast, always so fast. 

You wonder if he thinks you’ve left yet.

 

They’re worried about you, why wouldn’t they be. You’d be worried about you.

But you can’t help it, you really can’t. The time you spend with Wade is like a dream. It feels endless and untouchable. In a strange way it feels like the only real thing in your life.

Wade saved you from reality, plucked you from ordinary and molded you into something extraordinary.

You owe him so much, you owe him your future and body and heart. And soon, all too soon, you know you’ll owe him your mind. You know that soon you’ll fall into that abyss he’s been hiding in. 

You’ll jump from the edge you’ve been on for years. You know it’ll happen, Wade knows it’ll happen. You’re pretty sure you’re family does as well. Because this, this exhausting dance you’ve been doing between sanity and insanity. It’s getting to be too much, and Wade’s arms really are a nice place to land. 

You’ll fall with arms wide open and a smile on your face. Because insanity is the best kind of freedom and nothing about you could ever really be normal.


End file.
